Assassin's Tango
by livebyinsanity
Summary: Master assassin, Jasper Whitlock, has been assigned to, on the behalf of a vengeful lover to kill Alice Cullen. However, when complications arise, will the master be beaten at his own game? Now COMPLETE! Includes character death. Rated M just in case. AH
1. An Assassin's Scars

_Master assassin, Jasper Whitlock, has been assigned to, on the behalf of a vengeful ex-lover to kill Alice Cullen. However, when complications arise, will the master be beaten at his own game?_

**ASSASSIN'S TANGO**

**Part One: An Assassin's Scars**

An assassin's body is heavily scarred. Mine is no different.

I was standing bare-chested in front of my mirror, evaluating the results from five years of killings. I was a Master, the best of the best, yet even I had not escaped my fair share of close calls and impending disasters.

I had a bullet puckering in my left shoulder. That was a souvenir from my first ever assignment, Jane Volturi, who had been on the verge of drowning her family's reputation with an outrageous elopement. I was successful but had underestimated the threat of her estranged lover, hence getting shot. In another scenario, I also had vivid memories of tiny stab marks which littered my abdomen; they were the first I received after becoming a Master assassin. I had been asked to gate-crash a highly protected wedding event and annihilate the groom, all in broad daylight. To be honest, it was amazing that I had managed to escape, _almost _unscathed, when so many had died alongside their victims.

So, my scars gave me a sense of pride. My body was the proof that numerous had tried to take my life. And, I was the living proof that they had failed. Yet I have never failed an assignment.

It's ironic to remember that in high school I was the geeky kid who was squeaminsh. Any sort of bloodshed or violence made me feel quaint. If somebody passed out in biology class, it was probably me. And now?

Jasper Whitlock. Master assassin. Un-bloody-beatable.

My phone beeped suddenly, alerting me to a new text message. It was my boss, Rosalie Hale, asking that I go to her office immediately. I knew what this meant and my heartrate increased in anticipation. A new assignment. I smiled and the mirror returned an equally sinister smile; it had been three weeks since my last assignment and I was thrilled to go people hunting once again. Without musch fuss, I threw on a shirt and leather jacket, locked the front door before jumping onto my motorbike. It was black and sleek, fast and sleuthy; in other words – perfect.

Riding through the city traffic took no time at all.

Rosalie's office was on the top floor of a regular office block. It (and all other subsequent offices) was hidden within a labyrinth of legitimate lawyers who worked for Rosalie's fiancée Emmett McCarty. I nodded to a few of those airheads as I walked through. I'm not sure how but they kept their mouths shut about the illicit dealings of this place. I assumed it was related to the number of killers who would be after their necks, if any leaks of information did occur.

"Jasper Whitlock", I told our 'receptionist' once I arrived. "Requested by Rosalie Hale."

"Of course" she replied and then spoke quietly into her headset. "Go right through." She told me. "Ms Hale will be in her office."

I nodded before continuining down the narrow hallways, passing a few fellow assassins on the way. I didn't get lost, finding Rosalie's ornate door and bronze knocker with ease. I knocked, waiting for the customary 'come in' before turning the knob and stepping inside.

"Boss" I nodded in acknowledgement.

"Good job Whitlock, that was quick." Rosalie responded briskly as I fought the urge to roll my eyes; had I ever been late? "I'd like you to meet Mr James Harte, who will be providing you your latest assignment."

I took this opportunity to inspect the man who was standing, like an awkward statue, in the middle of the room. He was tall and well off in appearance, I had to admit. Light shoulder length brown hair which was pulled into a neat ponytail, startling grey/hazel eyes, a prominent jawline. Well dressed with dark jeans, boots and a jacket. As James shuffled his feet and cleared his throat to speak, I wondered what he was going to say. Perhaps I was to be looking for a wild maniac thief of a massive inheritance which would involve a skip across multiple continents?

"My ex" He stated. "Ex-fiancé, we were to be married next month. Except she suddenly decided that I wasn't worth her time."

Ex-fiancé. A simple lover's spat. Something that even a rookie assassin could take care of without many major difficulties. I knew my eyebrow was slightly raised; where was the catch?

"Her name is Alice Cullen."

Ah. That was the catch. I was familiar with that name. Alice Cullen was the daughter of Esme and Carlisle; the latter being the CEO of some elaborate airplane company. Carlisle used to serve in the army and so everybody knew he was extremely paranoid. He insisted on bodyguards, carrying firearms and missile proof cars, not just for him, but the entire family. Their home was equally fortified; it was rumoured that a team of America's best snipers were hidden on the rooftop. Imagining the house made me smile. I loved the thrill and my latest assignment was undoubtedly going to be an epic challenge. In the corner of my eye, I saw Rosalie nod minutely, as though she somehow knew of my affirmation. James was still droning on about Alice's description, black hair, pixie; did he think I was stupid? I was holding a picture in my hand!

I decided to stop him before I lost my patience and broke the man's neck.

"Mr Harte" I stated politely. "Thank you for telling me all about Alice, but I think I have enough information now. If you would allow me to get to work, Alice will be dead in no time.

Dismissively, I took a step to my right and opened the door to Rosalie's office. He took the hint and I bade him farewell. A simple 'good luck' and James was gone.

"Good job, Whitlock." My boss chuckled. "I thought he was never going to stop."

I had to agree.

If there was anything I had learned from my experiences was that patience was vital because without thought and precision, one could end up seriously injured, if not dead. Accuracy and attention to detail was vital. I needed to know where everybody was positioned; else, I would be easily taken off guard. A quick mind was vital. I needed to make adjustments whenever something was altered in my plans. I needed contingency options. I needed to have emergency escapes and plans for the scenario that I was compromised before the assassination could take place. The first step? Spy on Alice Cullen.

I quickly learned that Alice was an avid shopper and enjoyed spending countless hours trying on clothes at a variety of high end stores. I memorized her routines; when did she normally leave home? And when did she normally go back? Was she normally out with friends or did Alice prefer to spend time alone? How observant was the lass? Was she the gullible type or did she prefer to be the trickster? I was satisfied to attain an answer to each of my questions.

Unless she was entertaining guests, Alice always left home at 10 in the morning. She arrived back between 4:30 and 6 PM – only once in two weeks had my target made a stop home for lunch. I had also discovered that although Carlisle had invested hundreds of thousands of dollars in a complex security system, there were some rather obvious flaws. Only a fingerprint identification was needed to permit a person entry and I knew there were ways to 'steal' a fingerprint or better still, cheat the system. However, I knew that one failed attempt and a whole array of alarms, lasers and booby traps would be my enemy. Patience was vital.

Alice was the popular type. It was not unusual for her to be surrounded by friends. With a personal bodyguard, Edward Masen, I realized that Alice was rarely alone; in other words, untouchable in public.

Untouchable. And either extremely observant or had an uncanny sixth sense to detect the presence of other people. I had been watching Alice as she enjoyed a picnic in the nearby park, hidden in thick hedges, of course. I was confident that I was 100% out of sight; yet, I noticed that Alice's eyes kept flitting to the bushes where I was hiding, as though she knew I was there. In fact, just two days ago, I was observing Alice as she visited yet another shopping mall. I was standing outside the newsagency with a magazine clutched in my left hand. Alice was a good distance away, laughing as her friends tried on all sorts of ridiculous shoes. I confess to be slightly creeped out when she turned around and stared at me for half a minute, before looking away, joining friends as though nothing had happened.

She must have noticed my staring, I reasoned. Did I look like a moronic perve?

Probably. But then again, I was rather handsome too.

It may have been interesting to pull out a gun and kill her, in that surreal moment. But .that would mean a difficult escape and then a lifelong stay in a police cell. No, I would not meet that sticky fate. Patience was vital.

But surely three weeks was patient enough? I knew there were other assassins who enjoyed spending months on assignments but I preferred to use the minimal time feasible. I liked to be adequately prepared, correction down to the tee but in a job like this, there would always be an element of chance. I didn't think that pointless waiting would eliminate that element of chance when I could be finishing off a job and giving myself a pat on the back, extending an already perfect record. I was ready. I decided to attack at night because I loved being protected by the darkness. Additionally, I always felt more powerful at night where my agility, stealth and quick reflexes outshone the abilities of my victims.

I was standing outside the mansion. I watched slowly as light after light went out, leaving only the yellow glow of the guards' flashlights. Finally, the family was asleep.

I darted out from my hiding places between two large trees and moved confidently towards the front gate. I knew that any moment, a guard could spin around and see mel. I would be ruined. With practiced ease, I removed a single cotton glove and blush from my pocket. I dabbled a loose layer of the cosmetics onto the keypad, smirking as the last print showed up. I then poked it with my gloved finger; I wanted to laugh at the simplicity in which I thwarted the system. "Too easy" I grumbled as the gate swung open with a low hum.

I rushed inside, hiding in the squishy space between the statue of Carlise's grandfather and Esme's white rose garden, keeping my hand firmly clutched around a concealed dagger. The guards were scattered, most of them running towards the gate with an expression of disbelief and confusion. I held back a snicker as they grumbled about computer errors. It would be too ironic to get caught while laughing at not getting caught.

I waited until they were sufficiently distracted before walking towards the front door of the house. I already knew where the spare key was, having noticed Alice fiddle among the pot plants the day she came home for lunch. I found it and frowned a little; for a paranoid ex-soldier, this was rather tame. I stepped into the foyer with baited breath.

Nothing happened.

No alarms, no flashing red lights. Not even a quiet, barely audible buzz as motion sensors came to life. Just an eerie silence.

I had seen a vague floorplan of the house and hence climbed up the stairs, on a direct path to Alice's bedroom. Enroute, I passed the master suite. I heard two distinct snores and concluded that neither Carlisle nor Esme would ruin me tonight. With lithe steps that made no sound on the carpet floor, I made my way down the hall. I could see Alice's door now and my muscles tensed ever so slightly.

I opened the door, entered and without a moment's hesitation shut it behind me.

The room was smaller than I expected. It was dark but I could still make out the silhouette of the desk, closet and Alice's sleeping figure in the bed. I had one very simple plan – slit her throat and then get out of here; I clutched the knife in my hand, sliding towards the bed. I was close. My heart holted with nervous yet excited anticipation. I was nearly done.

When suddenly, Alice's eyes flew open and her peaceful expression transformed into a smirk.

I froze.

And then she leapt onto me, grabbing the knife in an attempt to wrestle it from my grasp. I held on tightly as I stumbled backwards, eventually pressed against the far wall. Her face was within spitting distance; none of us were budging. I scowled and she responded with a mischievous smile.

"Jasper Whitlock." Alice whispered in a voice which cut like ice. "I've been expecting you."

**Author's Note:**

So, this is my latest story. What do you guys think? Is this darker version of Jasper believable? I'm open to all comments and feedback; I would be very appreciative of any reviews. I have written parts 2 and 3 and will be posting them soon. For now, I hope you are enjoying this story. Please REVIEW!

~livebyinsanity


	2. An Assassin's Tango

_Previously:_

_When suddenly, Alice's eyes flew open and her peaceful expression transformed into a smirk._

_I froze._

_And then she leapt onto me, grabbing the knife in an attempt to wrestle it from my grasp. I held on tightly as I stumbled backwards, eventually pressed against the far wall. Her face was within spitting distance; none of us were budging. I scowled and she responded with a mischievous smile._

"_Jasper Whitlock." Alice whispered in a voice which cut like ice. "I've been expecting you."_

**Part Two: An Assassin's Tango**

In that moment, my mind flew, rushing through hundreds and thousands of possibilities. Where had I gone wrong? Where had I slipped up, made a mistake? Where had I been less cautious? Less precise? Less vigilant? I wracked my brain but I already knew the answer. No – I had not been negligent.

In the next moment, we began to fight for the knife. I twisted my wrist, forcing her fingers to grapple desperately to hold her grip. I started shifting my weight almost randomly in an attempt to throw off Alice's balance. I was astonished (although I tried hard not to show it) when she counteracted these manoeuvres as though she had been training for years. I think Alice may have noticed my momentary surprise because her expression of extreme concentration faltered and was overcome by a malicious smirk.

"Surprised?" She gloated. "Can't believe what little Alice Cullen can do? Honestly Jasper, I'm offended. Don't you recognise me?"

Her voice was simpering and although the tone was outrageously sweet, the assassin's instinct in me shouted of DANGER!

I kicked forwards; Alice yelped as my foot connected with her ankle and I darted to the side. This forced us to fumble dramatically so that we ended against the bed, pushing, pulling and spitting.

"Of course I know who you are." I scowled bitingly. "You're Alice Cullen and before the night is over, you will be dead."

"Right" Alice breathed into my face. "But also wrong. Stare into my eyes; tell me who I also am."

I wrenched for the knife again but failed to tug it out of Alice's vice like grip. I wanted to scream out in frustration. Here was me, a well trained experienced _Master _assassin, who had everything planned to a tee, losing a basic arm wrestling match to a petty, melodramatic girl. My teeth scraped against my bottom lip. Frustrated, I glanced into Alice's eyes, wondering if I could burn a hole straight into her brain.

What I saw were a peculiar shade of brown eyes. So light they could pass for topaz or even a dull brownish gold. There was only one person in the entire world that had such a pair of eyes. One that I knew very well. Yet it couldn't be...

"Can you recognise me now?" She asked slyly at the same time I blurted out "What the hell?"

I pulled my arm (and subsequently her's) upwards, forcing her face closer to mine, allowing me to scrutinise her features. Prominent yet subtle cheekbones, angular nose, elfish face...

"Do you think I could have used my real name?" Her voice was soft yet piercing at the same time. "How would you have reacted to hear that Alice Cullen, daughter of the most paranoid businessman was an assassin? The news would have spread like wildfire! All our clients would risk being arrested for associating with known criminal organisations to sell their stories or become journalists! I would have become the scandal of the century! No, I couldn't have that at all. In the public's eyes, I was Alice Cullen; a daddy's little girl, a sweet and friendly shopaholic. Out of sight, and heavily disguised, I was Mary Brandon, a new and uplifting young assassin!"

There was a tense silence as Alice giggled gleefully.

"Even you...you were completely fooled."

I shifted my weight and took a few wide steps. I barged abruptly, still trying to upset Alice's balance before slowing so that we were tousling by the shady outline of a large closet. I kicked the door open and saw a collection of tools: chisels, pliers and other gadgets. A good base to begin working as an assassin. Now, I felt like kicking myself. How, in my weeks of observation did I miss this crucial fact? Mary Brandon was someone I had known quite well (or at least I thought I had). I had trained and even partnered with 'Mary' for almost a year, during my early days, before deciding I preferred to work in solitude. I never saw nor heard from her again; I heard she had left the agency. I never imagined for a moment that 'Mary' and I would meet again.

Yet, here she was in the form of Alice Cullen. Dangerous; there was a black fire in her eyes and if her skills were half as good as when I had last met her, Alice would have lightning reflexes and uncanny usage of space. With my free hand, I swung a punch but Alice was able to dodge in a way that caused _me _to lose balance. We stumbled.

"I saw you following me." She spat as we slid around the room. "The day in the shopping centre – you were by the newsagency. In the park, your blonde hair was lurking in the bushes. The cinema, the pizzeria, the music store; I always knew that you were there."

_Impressive _a voice in my head was admiring Alice's observation and deduction skills while another voice berated me for not being adequately discreet. For not being prepared because I had not even considered a contingency plan where Alice was able to fight me. The main challenge had been to enter and exit the building undetected. Now, my mind was in clockworks; how was I going to actually perform the assassination? I feinted to the left before rapidly changing direction to complete a 360. I heard Alice's squeak as she was spun like a rag doll. There was a sound of glass breaking as a few bottles of perfume fell to the floor. I twisted my arm and tugged. In a moment of frenzy, A lice twisted in turn and her foot collided with the back of my kneecap.

I clenched my teeth against the pain. I forced the muscles in my arm to clench and my heart skipped a beat as I felt the knife start to slip in my hand.

And then it was gone.

With a sudden 'no' Alice had lunged at the silver metal. Calling or some hidden burst of energy, Alice had clawed at my hands and pushed the knife into her own. She darted away from me, leaping to the other side of the room. Alice grinned sadistically, tossing the knife from hand to hand. I was assaulted with a bizarre visual comparison of a lioness staring down her captured prey.

Our eyes met, acknowledging the change in circumstances.

"I'm going to kill you." Alice was openly triumphant now. "Like you killed my heart. We used to be partners, allies and even friends but then you ended our arrangement, without even speaking to me first. I had to hear from Tanya – that stuck up bitch! I told her that she was wrong; there was no way you would abandon me like that. Imagine how I felt when I found out it was true."

Her hisses were coming from an angry serpent. We circled; Alice was looking for a checkmate attack opening. I, on the other hand, was analysing her movements, preparing for the oncoming onslaught. The less rational part of my mind was going haywire thinking 'shit, shit, shit', how did I get trapped in this mess? I didn't want to die. It would be too ironic (not to mention embarrassing) if me, the Master assassin was assassinated by the _target _on their assassination assignment.

She was walking towards me now and I was unwittingly, stuck in the corner. Her steps were slow but measured. My fingers scrambled to grab something from behind me. Anything that would help me defend myself.

I came at nothing.

Alice was too close. The knife was glistening in the pale moonlight and I could have sworn that it winked at me. _Winked _at me! My own bloody knife winking malevolently as it sensed my own demise!

I was so officially stuffed. Alice's face was mere inches from my own. She was going to sneer at me, goad. She was going to spit on my face to assert her position of power. My last minute on Earth was going to be spent being mocked. I closed my eyes, willing her to simply disappear. No such luck.

And then she was kissing me. Her lips and tongue pushed, quite forcibly, onto my own and I felt my eyes fly open in shock. It took me a second in my befuddled mind to spring back into life and feel repulsed by her presence. On instincts, I shoved her body off me but Alice was only forced backwards and danced lithely to regain her balance. In my momentary distraction, I failed to notice how she was once again approaching me.

I felt only a distinctive cool against my arm. Almost chilling. I glanced down towards my forearm, gasping as my mind whirled to work out what was going on.

There, oozing for the world to see, freely bleeding was a large gash. It was easily over ten centimetres long.

Shit.

If I even had a chance of escaping this situation alive, that chance was surely gone now.

**Author's Note:**

I would just like to thank everyone who left a review last chapter. Your comments simply made my day! Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this particular chapter and will be kind enough to leave me some feedback. :)

~livebyinsanity


	3. An Assassin's Blood

_Previously:_

_I felt only a distinctive cool against my arm. Almost chilling. I glanced down towards my forearm, gasping as my mind whirled to work out what was going on._

_There, oozing for the world to see, freely bleeding was a large gash. It was easily over ten centimetres long._

_Shit._

_If I even had a chance of escaping this situation alive, that chance was surely gone now._

**Part Three: An Assassin's Blood**

I gritted my teeth, willing no sound to escape from my lips. My body failed me as I hissed; in some idle part of my brain, I asked myself 'why did my body suddenly decide that now, of all times, was a good moment to betray me?'

Alice was smirking. She was practically glowing as her cat like eyes appraised her handiwork with a cold satisfaction. My blood was spewing everywhere; no doubt splashes of red would be staining her fine, polished floor. That would surely please her. But I could feel that although the wound was quite long and stung in the bitter chill, it was not enormously deep. Compared to some of my previous injuries, this was like an unexpected papercut. Bothersome, but not very harmful, not _really_. I think Alice overestimated how seriously she had injured me. Otherwise, she would not be sniggering and staring without a care in the world.

I deliberately winced, pretending to be in pain when I was actually tensing and re-aligning my muscles.

Mentally, I counted to three.

I pounced.

She, despite all the gruelling intense hours of training to even become a novice assassin, never saw it coming. I was too experienced. My fingers clawed at her palm and we both watched (me with slight barely noticeable smugness and Alice in surprise) as the knife flew in a wide arc, landing by Alice's bedroom door. A soft tinkle could be heard as it drifted lightly to the ground.

A flimsy 'oh' was uttered by Alice; no doubt she had recovered from her momentary stupor. I bolted towards the knife but Alice edged in front at the last possible second, flinging her tiny body under my arm. She took the knife but I reached out and tugged it swiftly, with an almost demonic snarl from her grasp. The force made both of us stagger backwards and my back nudged some cool metal which felt like a clothestand. Alice on the other hand came close to lying sprawled on the floor.

In that moment, as Alice viewed me, safely gripping my blade, she realised how dramatically the tables had turned again.

"NO!" She cried out without warning; her despair, astonishment and horror resonated around the room.

I froze. Was this Alice's last ditch plan of survival? Was her bodyguard going to break in, bullets flying? Shoot now, ask questions later? I was starting to think that maybe I should have brought a gun. It was noisier but I could have shot Alice the moment I saw her. And avoid this messy botched up confrontation. Or maybe Alice's scream would have activated some crazy previously unheard of security system which would freeze my heart, or lungs, or brain?

It took me around a minute to notice that one- I was still alive and two – no crazy robot/bodyguard was kicking the bedroom door open.

The haze around my mind lifted and I was able to hear a heavy and unrelenting silence. There was no movement and Alice remained, in an ungraceful heap on the floor. I think she knew that now, the game was up. I was victorious.

Tears, poncy fat tears began to flow, in messy rivers down her face while I stared on, apathetic. I never had much patience with tears. What could a person achieve by making a whole lot of noisy ruckus and crying their eyes out? Not much.

In fact, the only thing that Alice was managing would be making me irritable.

I stepped forwards closing the distance between assassin and prey. At last second, Alice sprang to her feet with desperate frantic eyes but I was faster. I sprang forwards and pinned Alice against the far wall, where her head was tapping against the window sill. In one quick yet precise movement, my knife slashed viciously across Alice's throat.

With a final resigned sigh, she dropped like a discarded mannequin doll, falling into a pool that was steadily growing in her own blood.

I walked over the body.

My job here was done.

Now all I needed to do was arrive safely home and have an extended nap.

With the thought of robots and automatic missiles still fresh in my mind, I decided against navigating back through the house. Instead, I picked up Alice's hairdryer and smashed a neat hole in the window, sized ideally for me to clamber through. In hindsight, I would have wondered why I didn't simply _open _the window. It would definitely have been quieter and smarter.

Then again, smartness had been my worst folly tonight.

I slid down a small section of roof before landing on a little balcony which had a flight of stairs leading to the mansion's grounds. I used a side gate, which turned out to be an excellent idea because I encountered only one, very sleepy bodyguard. A simple knife to the back and then, the threat was gone.

I had a rental car waiting for me, not far from the perimeters of the property. I found it and moved into the driver's seat. I grabbed my phone and sent a brief text message to my boss, Rosalie.

"Cullen dead." The letters appeared on the screen. "Position not compromised".

After all, the agency depended upon the anonymity of all our assassins.

I was satisfied when mere moments after I had pressed 'Send', my phone vibrated lightly with an incoming text message. From Rosalie – of course.

"Good job Whitlock" I read (no doubt this was one of Rosalie's favourite phrases). "I'll expect you in the office tomorrow morning."

I nodded to myself, replacing the phone in my pocket with the keys.

Before long, I was home. The rental car had been deposited outside the depot I had hired it from. U went upstairs, making towards the bed but I found myself pausing by the full length mirror. Almost lazily, my finger traced the cut on my arm.

Yet another scar would form. Just another warning to my enemies that I was not to be trifled with. That I could be taken to the brink of a bloody death and still survive.

Jasper Whitlock. Master assassin. Un-bloody-beatable.

**Author's**** Note:**

So, this is the third and final part of Assassin's Tango. I hope you all enjoyed this story. I'd like to thank all the people who reviewed; your positive comments were an inspiration for me. Please continue to do so, I would be interested to know whether you loved/hated this ending and please also point out things that I can improve. :) Merry Christmas and happy fanfiction-ing.

~livebyinsanity


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